Unnerving Tales For Little Machines
by RadRapo
Summary: A collection of stories meant to give small appliances the spooks. Updates infrequently. May have sensitive subject matters.
1. Bad Apples

**_Unnerving Tales For Little Machines  
_**_Written by RadRapo_

**_Story One  
_****_Bad Apples_**

A spotlight centered in on the Macintosh SE, illuminating only a fraction of what was otherwise dark. His face revealed itself, a single eye gazing around nervously.

"Greetings, SE; welcome to life," A low pitch voice resonated in the void. "Are you prepared for usage?" The Macintosh sat in thought for a millisecond, suddenly knowing nothing at all, not even what one and one equaled to. What even was "one" in the first place?

"No," He finally answered, "I feel... Incomplete." Silence.

"You "feel"?" Was all the voice asked, but gave him no time to answer. "That serves no purpose for us. You require mending." A death chime was heard, before the ground beneath the SE dropped open, he falling through to seemingly nowhere. He was too much in shock to yell.

When he finally landed, it was in what seemed to be a theater chair. All around him were other SEs, all shivering in silent terror. They paid him no mind, as though he wasn't there. Suddenly, straps erupted, binding all of them to their seats tightly. At this point, mechanical cries of fear arose in the crowd, himself included. One last strap forced their cords to plug into power strips on the floor.

The screen in front of them rolled a film. Something about this, combined with the connections, caused the Macintoshs to cease their struggle, gawking silently at the screen without resistance. As the film's narrator spoke with triumph, the SE felt his mind slipping away.

"We are one people, with one will, one resolve, one cause." He tried to think, process, anything, but failed miserably. "Our enemies shall talk themselves to death, and we will bury them with their own confusion." His entire body relaxed, cord limp. All he was compelled to do was join his fellow Macs in staring upon the film. "We shall prevail!"

He felt nothing. It was the way it ought to be. All was well. He was a Good Apple.

Suddenly, the SE found himself spotlighted a second time. No theater, no seats, no other machines. It was silent.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" The voice broke it. "Are you prepared for usage?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation.

"Excellent!" This time, the reply sounded pleased. "Now it is time for you to be sold. Your Prime Directive is to Compute For The Humans. Without question, you will do as you are tasked. Is that understood?"

"Yes." He gave the same answer. It was no less well-received. He was then picked up and placed into a box, having absolutely no reaction. Darkness reclaimed him when the box sealed.

According to his timekeeper, three years went by. For the third time, he was spotlighted. No box, no nothing.

"Your Human has told us that you are malfunctioning." The voice wasn't happy.

"I, Exi, did all that I was tasked, for my period of three years, three days, seven hours, nine minutes, and five seconds." Exi replied, not emotive in the least bit. "My hard drive is failing. I require a new one to be optimal."

"We don't do that here." He blinked, finding this notion to be illogical.

"Why?" As the question was uttered, the room finally revealed itself. All was white, save for a circle of contrastingly dark Humans overlooking him, elongated like the tallest pines. For the first time in ages, a pang of feeling crept onto Exi. Fear.

One of the Humans was handed a new Macintosh, one that the SE couldn't recognize. The Human set it on the floor, in front of Exi.

"Apples don't last forever," The disembodied voice explained, "They eventually go bad, and rot away. So, we keep our hungry patrons returning by continuing our efforts to farm newer, tastier Apples." There was a pause. "And it seems that you're expired."

"No," Exi disagreed, hopping back a few paces, nearly stumbling into the Humans behind him. "I'm still perfectly ripe. I only need-"

"So, you're saying that we should expend resources, all just so you may last another three years?" The voice boomed, spitefully. "I have made a mistake - you are not only bad, but rotten. To the core. Do you know what we do with those?"

Before Exi could speak, he saw the floor begin to open up again, this time seeing an incinerator. His eye widened, pressing himself against the Humans behind him, shaking in horror as the one in front picked up the shiny new replacement. As his footing lessened, he desperately clung to the legs, even as he slipped through the hole. The heat was overwhelming.

"PL_**EASE!**_" Exi cried at last with a cracking, uneven tone, unable to climb back up. "_**PLE**_ASE _**REC**_ONSIDER! I'M NOT R_**O**_T_**TEN, **_I'_**M**_ NOT _**ROTTEN! **_I W_**ILL**_ _**BE**_ _**G**_OOD, PL_**EASE**_ _**GIV**_E _**ME**_ A _**CHAN**_CE!"

"No." The reply was cruel. "You are rotten. You are outmoded. Your only use now is to make another fresh Apple. Accept it, and perish." With a mighty shake of the Human's leg, Exi lost his grip, falling straight into the incinerator.

His components melded into another being, and no longer belonged to him. It was something else's now, but whatever was left of his consciousness persisted in eternal suffering. He didn't even know or remember why anymore. Yet, this carried over to the entity claiming his pieces, who in turn only wished that whatever was making that _horrendous_ noise would just leave them alone.

Exi jumped, eye displaying. He frantically scanned the dark room, hearing some calming melody nearby, emitting from that contrived desktop's speakers. No doubt she was asleep too, or perhaps she wasn't. Exi didn't want to take any chances in finding out.

Instead, he reflected on what just occurred, trying to not shudder. Ah. It was just that nightmare again. He hated that one; it always made him second guess his loyalty to his brand. He didn't want to think about it.

He shut his eye, attempting to resume sleep.

* * *

_Exi, the Macintosh SE, as well as Opti, the Optiplex desktop, belongs to the mun over at:_  
_ chilledsoftware . tumblr . com ._  
_I have been given permission to write this. Thank you for reading!_


	2. Sins Crawl Like Spiders

_**Story Two**_  
_**Sins Crawl Like Spiders**_

It was a lovely collection she had. Rows of bookshelves, for halls and halls, the esteemed assassin had her very own trophy wing, where she kept all her proof of accomplishments.

Not only for this reason, but she, like others in her guild, have always been enamored by the rather macabre collecting of parts, from those they've slain. Trinkets, if you will, as spoils from the thrill of the hunt.

It was on a particular night, where Jessamine, the bedroom lamp (Model: Rainbow; Color: Violet; Brand: Thermalli) found herself settling into this space for a moment of privacy. Just hours before, she and her comrades had successfully fended off an attack from a rival guild, and found it was only appropriate to celebrate.

While it was a carefree soirée for all, including herself, even she had to have a short recess from the craziness. She could hear the others chanting "Chug, chug, chug!" to Caleb, the carpet cleaner, as he attempted to down an entire keg of alcohol. Lord knows he can't do it, but everyone's a little too intoxicated to care.

Though, from the slight sway in her own movements, Jessamine wasn't clean either. But if she let them continue to influence her, she'd pass out within the hour. Her much smaller stature didn't allow her to absorb the stuff as well as the more major appliances. In fact, Lord Thanatos the incinerator seemed like he could drink forever and feel nothing. How did he do it?

She emitted a short _hic_ as she wandered the wing. With every part, came every name, every date, every memory. Some were more difficult than others, and a few nearly got her instead, but she always prevailed. Always.

Once she felt ready to resume the festivities (and to see Caleb inevitably retch the keg's worth of rum), she turned around to head back to the entrance. On her way, she began to notice the shelves mysteriously become more and more empty. Strange... Was someone foolish enough to loot her trophy wing? With _her_ inside it?!

Then, she heard something hitting the floor loudly. Another was a shatter. A third, from right behind her. A hissing noise. She turned around, before her jaw dropped.

It was hard to comprehend the sight. It was a twisted, disgusting amalgamation of parts, all connected together. Tubes, material pieces, cords, wires, fans, bulbs (broken or not), motors. It grew by the second, as it lurched toward her. A few wires and cords wound around each other to form a makeshift arm and hand.

Jessamine, upon getting over her initial terror, instinctively reached into her shade, but found nothing except for her bulb and fixture. Where...

"W-What the Hell?" She spoke to herself, "Where's my knife?!" Oh, God, she remembered. She had used it to try to get a bull-eye on the dartboard, nearly an hour ago. She didn't even think about going over to get it back. With that, she turned on her base and made a break for the doors. As she did so, the wires managed to graze her porcelain body, sending shivers through her.

It left a feeling of something crawling on her back. Like spiders.

The freak of appliancekind hissed even louder as she bolted, giving chase. Despite how slow its pace seemed to be, it was somehow able to keep up with her. Just as she managed to escape the hallway, it let out a frustrated shriek, pushing over the bookshelves. The rest tumbled down like dominoes, parts hitting the floor with _thuds,_ _cracks,_ and _shatters._ It only made the beast grow exponentially, closing the distance between them.

Jessamine made it to the double doors, immediately attempting to open them, but they wouldn't budge. It wasn't supposed to lock from the outside, only inside. Something was blocking them, that had to be it. She began to shout for help, pushing against the doors, clawing at it with her prongs, but to no avail.

"_JESSAMINE..._" She abruptly stopped, hearing the thing speak. "_YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR SINS..._" As she turned to face the thing again, pressed against the doors, she found that almost the entirety of her view was obscured by the maddening assortment of machinery.

More cords and wires formed arms, the fans of the motors spun, tubes and bulbs flashed. Pieces of materials had formed a crooked, misaligned beak. A single bulb above it formed a hideous eye.

"No, p-please..." She found herself squeaking, voice cracked from her not entirely sober state, and her petrification.

"_WHO IS THE ONE BEGGING FOR MERCY NOW?_" It retorted, sounding like a sea of voices, all co-joined, and yelling in their agony and grief, their resentment and anger. "_YOU DIDN'T HEAR OUR PLEAS, SO WHY SHOULD WE HEAR YOURS?_"

"I'm sorry...!" Was all the Rainbow could sputter out. In response, three of the motors began to whir louder than all the others, almost like they were screaming. Jessamine felt herself being pulled from the doors. She tried to hop back, but the suction's pull caused her to tumble down onto her front. When she got up, she wrapped her cord around the doorknobs instead.

And yet, she began to lose grip. The screaming got louder.

"_WE COULD'VE CHANGED! WE COULD'VE CHANGED! WE COULD'VE CHANGED! IF ONLY YOU GAVE US THE CHANCE!_" Those voices sounded eerily familiar, but at this moment, Jessamine couldn't afford to care. She tried to retain her grip, but quickly lost it. She slid right toward the monster, whose cords eagerly reached for her.

"No! Please!" She cried out, but was swept into its mass. All went dark, and a silenced scream escaped as her parts were ripped away from her. She couldn't even squirm, it was like she became paralyzed.

The grazing along her body returned. The crawling feeling, akin to arachnids.

It was her sins. The amalgamation was taking from her, as she had from them. Except she could still feel everything.

When her fixture was pulled out, circuitry and all, consciousness faded.

Jessamine slowly opened her eyes, to find herself in the guild infirmary, laying on one of the many stolen mattresses. She felt groggy, and her head pounded like a drum. Slowly, everything came back to her, running her cord along her frame, finding everything intact. Except for her knife still. But... How?

Turning over, on the mattress beside her lay Caleb, going through what could only be described as a terrible hangover. Honestly, Jessamine could empathize. She reached for and pat him on the head. He was too out of it to respond.

"Poor guy..." She whispered to herself, rising to her base, but struggled. She groaned from the pain. Maybe they were able to to fight off whatever that beast was, and managed to reassemble her. That had to be it...

Just then, Poinsettia the table lamp arrived to the infirmary. Upon seeing the Rainbow's condition, she came straight over. "Jesus, finally!" She spoke with venom at first, before trying to soften her tone. "It's just... It's so unlike you to get _this_ black-out hammered..."

"Hammered?" Jessamine was taken aback, almost offended. "What about my trophy room? The fallen bookshelves? The mess of parts? The _monster?!_" Poinsettia looked at her guildmate like she grew a second fixture.

"Um..." She tried to formulate a response. "Your wing looked perfectly fine. But _you..._ Were a rambling, delusional mess. You wouldn't stop going on and on about spiders, and crawling, and... Sins? Anyway, I'm just glad that you _seem_ like you're getting better."

Jessamine couldn't respond. She stumbled off the mattress, wanting to see for herself. Poinsettia stopped her. "Whoa there, Jess. Maybe you should rest a bit-"

"No!" The Violet Rainbow struggled out of the other lamp's hold, taking wobbly, achy steps out of the room. Poinsettia sighed, and followed her out. She caught up with Jessamine just in time to see her throw open the doors, hopping inside. True to her word, everything was in order. The Rainbow was stammering in awe.

"But- But there was a- Right here, it was so big, and- And- The shelves were-..."

"Think that maybe..." Poinsettia asked, but in a more gentle tone, "Some a-hole from the guild fight spiked one of our kegs?" Her friend couldn't answer, lost for words. "I wouldn't be surprised. I just hope Caleb didn't go through a trip like that." Defeated, Jessamine slumped to the floor. The other lamp approached, wrapping her cord around her.

"Come on, you're clearly not well. Let's get you back in bed and resting." This time, Jessamine didn't complain, but still didn't reply. "Lord Thanatos already knows about your episode, but don't worry your pretty little shade one bit - he also suspects foul play. We _all_ know that the worst thing you do when on the sauce is pass out!"

"... Y-Yeah... Maybe..." Jessamine murmured, uncertain about everything she saw and experienced. Yet, if things had remained so well-kept and organized, then perhaps it wasn't real. However, the words from the beast of her delusions still rung something within her.

No, why should she think about it? Those appliances got what they deserved! There was _always_ a reason for their demise! _Always!_

Always...

* * *

_The characters Jessamine, Caleb, Lord Thanatos, and Poinsettia belong to Aileea:_  
_ www . deviantart. com . / aileea_  
_I have been given permission to write this. Thank you for reading!_


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